


The Tiger

by aphylla



Series: mini stories that I randomly decide to write :) [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Poetry, Other, i dont know where i was going with this, i doubt i can even be counted as poetry, its so short im sobbing, metaphorical hunting, random dude being really tigerish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25498885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphylla/pseuds/aphylla
Summary: some random thing I wrote at 3 am possibly, my friends really seemed to like it so why not post it
Series: mini stories that I randomly decide to write :) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1488044





	The Tiger

Every step he took was with grace, every look, every movement, every gesture and the complex and mysterious story only the writer knew. The way his body prowled, like a cat stalking its prey, the sheer prowess in his eyes made a little shiver run down everyone's spine. 

And his feet, quiet on the floor, moved ever so slowly, taunting every one of them, and all was quiet, _and the tiger was eyeing its prey._

Whence he turned and showed his face, oh that porcelain face, with a gaze so ferocious, like a beast eyeing its prey, but a face carved by the gods. Why even the gods might have shed a tear that day, that day they carved this beauty to be put down upon the earth, and grow into something beyond everything. 

And he sat at the top, all was quiet, all was still, _and the tiger had eaten its prey._

That day no one survived the harsh, cold words of a ferocious beast, a quick tongue and a cold heart in hand, years of suffering at his fingertips. His hands had pointed blame at everyone, found flaws where others saw talent and shut down any hope the people had left. 

His word was God, reigning mighty on us all, and all was still, _and the tiger has forgotten its prey._

_"Look at all of you, look at what you've become, what this great city has become."_

No one spoke up.  
No one dared too.  
It was too cold.

_"You all should know by now, I don't like waiting"_

His tone, it was, _insulting_. He was taunting everyone, with lies and trickery and _deceit._  
It was hungry for action, hungry for _someones_ death. But who's? he did not care, he did not worry, he just put up a bait and dangled it in front of hungry fish.

Hungry fish that also itched for some relief. Hungry fish that also needed to stop the beast. Hungry fish that didn't back down from a fight. 

_"Scared-?"_

The same _mocking_ tone again, the _same question_ meant to bait and snatch any willing participants unlucky enough to not resist themselves. 

_"AS IF-"_

Barked someone, hiding behind a group of people, loud and clear in the deathly silence. A coward. A moron.

_"WHY WOULD WE BE"_

Screamed another, this time closer, _much_ more closer to the taunter. And when the monster’s eyes snapped to the speaker, their face drained to something akin a winter's day. Cold and deathly pale, his eyes like they had seen death its self and his body like Medusa visited the poor soul.

The air felt suffocating like it had been grabbed by pale hands and sharp nails away from the room. Deathly silence reigned over the hall and no one dared to breathe. Every itch for violence, every urge to scream, every desire to run away felt like it would be useless. Nothing could save them now.

And so, all was quiet again. All was still. No one said a word. _And the tiger had conquered the prey._


End file.
